Sweeten My Coffee
by L'Archel-Hotishi
Summary: Spoliers for end of anime. Heimdall visits Loki one night. The trickster is convinced Heimdall is only there to mock him but, as Heimdall talks more about the fated event of Ragnarok, Loki realizes the value behind the watchman's words...and his promise. Angst / Fluff. Loki/Heimdall.


Title: Sweeten My Coffee

Pairing: Loki x Heimdall

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters or settings presented in this fanfic. All I own is the license to use the program this was typed on, and the fanfic itself. All credit must go to Sakura Kinoshita.

Rating: K (some strong language)

Author's Note: I'm drinking coffee. I got inspired. That's basically it. I hope you enjoy this little story about my still adored OTP! :)

**-START-**

"Black, Green, Chai, English, Earl Gray and Oolong. Those are all the types of tea we have. Master Loki, which one would you like to have?"

The butler cast a glance over his shoulder to see his small master seated firmly at the long, mahogany table in the kitchen. With a critical stare, the trickster's eyes glossed over each package. Each sounded just as unappealing as the last. As Yamino continued to stare at his young master in perplexity, Loki simply tossed his head back. In a kingly voice, he stated, "I don't desire tea today."

The young man across the room lifted a brow. "Oh. Okay. Well, what would you like instead, Master Loki?"

The trickster shrugged. Yamino sighed and pushed on his glasses.

The serpent's nerves were tested daily thanks to his father's picky personality. Thankfully, he'd gotten so used to it hardly bothered him anymore. "I shall see if we have anything else in the basement."

The young man lit a candle and walked past his father, headed straight for the cellar where the agency kept imperishable foods that couldn't fit in the spacious upstairs pantry. Whilst his son went looking for something to quench his selective thirst, the young boy heard a loud knocking at the front door. Seconds ticked by and the knocking persisted. Annoyed that Yamino couldn't answer the door, Loki rose from his comfortable seat and headed to the door. "Dammit, it's almost seven o'clock. Who the hell would have business at this hour?"

Since the boy was too small to peek through the the glass hole near the top of the door, he had no choice but to open it and directly face who was on the other side. If it was Mayura, he would curse. If it was Thor, he'd smack him in the head with the newspaper. If it was Koutarou, he would probably invite the intelligent young lad inside. At least he had somewhat of a formidable mind.

Alas, the person beyond the other side of the door was none of the aforementioned three. Instead, Loki was greeted with ruby eyes and lavender locks. The gaunt boy was dressed in baggy, thrift store looking clothes and wore a grimace that could have made milk curdle. Loki merely stared back at the visage with amusement. "Ah. Hello, Heimdall."

The red-eyed boy cackled at the greeting. "And hello to you as well, Loki."

The trickster cringed. The sentence practically oozed with sarcasm.

"What do you want?" Loki asked, gesturing for him to come inside so he could shut the front door. The sun had gone down and the temperature had dropped far below zero degrees Celsius. Once Heimdall was within the large mansion, he shook the snow from his hair and jacket and turned to Loki. His inflamed stare made Loki snort and lift a brow in inquisition. "Well, tell me already. I do so hate wasting my precious time."

"Even with me?" Heimdall asked teasingly.

Loki turned slightly red in the face. "_Especially_ with you."

Heimdall laughed and took a step closer to Loki. The trickster, not amused, took a step backwards in return. "And please, use words. I am in no mood to decipher your body language and cackles. All I know it that it's getting late and that you're not supposed to be here. So, explain."

The watchman threw his head back and laughed until the chords in his neck were visible. "You're in such a hurry tonight, Loki. I simply came to see your pretty little face. It'll be your Feast Day soon, correct?"

April first. That was Loki's Feast Day. Heimdall's was on March 23rd, and the fact that the watchman would make up such an excuse when it was still February was quite disturbing. It had to be a lie. Crossing his arms, Loki's venomous voice hissed harshly, "You can't lie to me. Why are you really here?"

Heimdall's visage softened. Loki blinked at the odd reaction and ran his emerald eyes down Heimdall's snow-drenched form. "You came here in the snow. It's incredibly cold outside. It's late at night. I'll ask again. Why are you here?"

The room seemed to darken a smidgeon as Heimdall turned to him. His slumped form straightened as a single sentence left his chilled lips. "To see you."

Loki froze. Heimdall had come to see him. At least, that's what he'd said. Wasn't it?

Loki grew confused and transferred the location of his hands to his hips. Part of him didn't believe what Heimdall was saying, but another part of him was incredibly curious.

"Hey," Heimdall said suddenly, the abruptness of his rooms in the silent room making Loki jump. "Your face was red earlier. When I asked if you if you hated wasting your time on me, you blushed. I want to know why."

Loki was suddenly horrified. Had he blushed? Damn, he inwardly cursed. He couldn't recall if he had or not. After a few forced breaths, Loki regained the spark of confidence he'd almost lost in Heimdall's presence. "Well, tell me why you're here. Then I'll bless you with an answer to your precious question."

It was Heimdall's turn to stifle. Both boys stared at each other from across the entryway. Each was trying their best of form the most vindictive look on their face, as to frighten the other one into caving first. When neither gave in, each god merely looked at the ground. It was Heimdall that, due to the logic of Loki's promise, spoke first. His words were laced with a surprising amount of sincerity.

"I came here to promise you something."

"Promise?" Loki laughed snidely. "Promise me what? Peace? Death? Hope? Love? Adoration? Revenge? I've heard them all, and most of them have been lies," he continued, extending his arms in either direction. "So go ahead! Promise. Promise away! I won't believe a single damn word you say!"

Heimdall watched him through a half-lidded gaze. Apparently, such harsh words weren't unfamiliar to the watchman. With a deep breath, the purple-haired boy spoke up. "It's about Ragnarok."

Another snort came from Loki.

"Listen anyway," Heimdall commanded sternly. "There's talk of…Ragnarok being avoided. Especially after you resolved everything with your daughter, Hel. Odin doesn't know why, but suddenly, the Norns have predicted a change of our fates."

Fate. Loki despised the word. "Get to the point, Heimdall. You haven't said anything that I haven't heard already."

"You and I might not have to kill each other," he finally spat out, his tone rising in anger. The palpable change made Loki's eyes widen slightly. All of a sudden, Heimdall had his full attention. "So that's why I came here. Not to mock you. Not to ask you for my damned eye back. Not to torture with those idiotic mistakes you made in the past!"

He slammed his gloved fist against a nearby wall, sending a mounted painting crashing to the ground. Loki stepped back again, becoming wary. "Heimdall…?"

"I came here to offer you a promise of understanding. You've done so many horrible things in the past. To me, to Odin, to Baldur! But now you've somehow managed to make everything okay. I came to thank you, godammit! **Thank you**! I figured you wouldn't accept it because of how arrogant you are, so I was hoping you'd catch on. However, for someone's whose reputation precedes them as being brilliant, you're as dense as the child whose body you wear!"

Loki was no longer frozen. Instead, he was looking back at Heimdall in a surprisingly deadpan fashion. Seething, Heimdall backed away. "The painting. I'm sorry I broke it."

"So we're even?" Loki asked with a chortle. "Is that all? We're even? You won't try to kill me anymore or send anymore assassins after my family. This is really it?"

"Indeed it is," Heimdall promised. "But as long as Ragnarok has been avoided! If you screw everything up again, I won't hesitate to kill you! Do you understand?"

Loki was in disbelief. In a way, he had already known everything that Heimdall had said. Ragnarok had been averted and all the gods had remained with him on Earth. It was only logical to infer that some kind of unspoken truce had been made. Still, something about hearing Heimdall make the official declaration made him feel weak. He wasn't sure if it was from relief or happiness.

"I'll go now," Heimdall said stonily. "Enjoy your damn evening."

"I shall," Loki responded coldly. He felt faint. His face was cold to the touch and he was certain his flesh was at least five shades paler than usual.

Just as Loki went to open the door for the watchman, his gloved hand shot out from his coat pocket and seized Loki's wrist. Before the trickster even realized he was being touched, Heimdall pulled Loki against his chest and placed a kiss upon his lips. The taste of the kiss registered almost immediately. It was bitter, like black coffee. The kiss itself left the trickster still and surprised. He'd been kissed before, but Heimdall's kiss felt different.

There was something so genuine and innocent about it.

"There," Heimdall said, pulling away. "I made the promise official. Now you have to know how serious I am."

Loki looked back at him, unable to free his wrist from Heimdall's firm grip. "Why?"

"Why?" Heimdall asked, sneering at the word. "Can't you hear? It's because that's how serious I am about the promise. I already told you. Now that we've kissed over it, you can't break that promise. Next time I come back here, I expect an answer to my question."

Heimdall leaned in and, just when Loki thought he was going to receive another kiss, Heimdall's face veered away from him. Instead, the watchmen bent down to whisper something in the boy's ear. _"I don't want to have to kill you."_

Heimdall shoved Loki away, watching with a laugh as Loki's back collided with a nearby table. "Let that be an incentive to avoid doing anything stupid again. After all this, I'd hate to have to know what your face looks like when you die."

The door opened. A few footsteps later, and Heimdall was gone, leaving Loki isolated and alone in the corridor. Speechless, Loki quivered and recovered his balance after being almost pushed to the floor. The slam of the front door was so loud that he was afraid the vase in the next room was going to fall off the table and break. Seconds later, Yamino came running, his arms full of powdered drink tins.

"M-Master Loki?" he asked, eyes full of worry. "What was the noise? Are you okay?"

Nodding but not facing his son, Loki slowly laughed. He could feel Yamino's inquiring gaze burning into his neck and, finally deciding he could manage a straight face, spun around. "I'm fine. The painting's frame is broken. I'll clean it up later. Did you find any drinks in the basement?"

The assault of seemingly unrelated sentences made Yamino pause for a moment. Deciding not to ask, he merely answered the last question. "I found some old coffee back from last year. It hasn't expired, but you didn't like it because it was too bitter."

"Is it black coffee?" Loki asked.

The butler scanned the label on the tin. "Yes, it is. That's why you didn't like it."

"Make me some," Loki ordered suddenly, walking past his son and up to his study. "I've acquired a sudden craving for it."

**-END-**

R&R! I hope you all enjoyed!  
Oh, and if you're interested, I've started up a Youtube channel where I read creepypastas and other stories. My username is SpectrumDiamond. If you've got time, check me out!

Have an incredible night and, as usual, I hope you enjoyed!


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